Текст песни
Her eyes and words are so icy,
Oh, but she burns
Like rum on the fire.
Hot and fast and angry,
As she can be,
I walk my days on a wire.
It looks ugly, but it's clean,
Oh momma, don't fuss over me.
[Chorus:]
The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine,
Open hand or closed fist would be fine,
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
[Verse 2:]
Calls of guilty fall on me,
All while she stains
The sheets of some other.
Thrown at me so powerfully,
Just like she throws with the arm of her brother.
But I want it, it's a crime,
That she's not around most of the time.
[Chorus:]
The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine,
Open hand or closed fist would be fine,
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
[Verse 3:]
Her fight and fury is fiery,
Oh, but she loves.
Like sleep the to freezing,
Sweet and right and merciful.
I'm all but washed
In the tide of her breathing.
And it's worth it, it's divine,
And I can have this some of the time.
[Chorus:]
The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine,
Open hand or closed fist would be fine,
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.
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